Guilty Pleasure
by Sighani
Summary: Oneshot. A pointless drabble involving Demyx in a lagoon, a love confession, and the albino who pries it out of him. Rated T for suggested themes and a naughty word.


Guilty Pleasure

by

Sighani

**A Note:** _There is no point to this drabble, because that's all it is--a drabble. There's no plot, and since it's a oneshot, I'm not going to do anything else with it. I wrote this on a whim in a couple hours merely to practice describing stuff. So if you don't like description, this isn't the oneshot for you. It goes really fast and ends very abruptly, and I apologize for that, but I'm done with it now, and there will be no revising. It's going to stay how it is. Reviews, however, are still appreciated! They are welcomed, in fact, with open arms and a big plate of cookies! And by the way, I'm aware of the fact that the dialogue isn't that great. But that's not what I was trying to emphasize here. The title, by the way, comes from a song (one called, if you can believe it, "Guilty Pleasure," by Cobra Starship), because everything I do is heavily inspired by music. Thankfully, and enjoy (maybe?)._

**Disclaimer:** _All recognizable names and characters belong to their respective owners. Don't sue me._

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The midday heat was sweltering, the sun glowering fiercely down on the island, its harsh glare radiating up off the beach in twisted waves, writhing as they distorted the horizon, brushing invisible fire through the air. But in the lagoon, surrounded by tall, enclosing palms that swayed in time to the inaudible song of the summer breeze, where the shade was not black or gray but rather a rich green and soft, springy grass grew up in clumps through the fine sand, he was safe, sheltered. The water mingled with the brackish perspiration on his crown, intermingling streams trailing from the mousy roots of his hair, the liquids stealing the concealed chill from the air, nurturing flushed skin. That same water hugged his clothes tightly to his body. Motion suddenly surging through his formerly limp figure, he worked to change that.

His strong hands threaded along the edge of his shirt, slitting under the damp, clingy fabric as he searched for a hold. His cerulean eyes unfocused and unseeing as his gaze played over the sun-kissed ripples of the water while he possessed enough of a grip to peel the soaked garment over his head, soft lines traced across his firm chest dissolving and thrown into sharp, marbled relief, traced in bronze and honey. Twisting insistently as his shirt wouldn't come off quite right, catching on his broad shoulders as he gave a final, impatient jerk, wall of sopping black sliding to dip into a sharp collarbone, one drowned by waves of damp, golden hair spilling across his sun-darkened skin, form tensing and riddling with crevices after every twitch, lean body twisting when, with a final push of his arms, his shirt released its hold on his flesh with a low sucking noise and fell to the sand beside him in a disheveled, black heap.

Blond hair standing on end from the friction of the passing fabric, he released a gentle sigh, sinew rippling through his solid back and chest, as the wind licked delicately across his body, cooling him, caressing bare skin with a loving, almost indecent touch. There beneath the bent palms, the shadows were reversed; dark emerald filtered in through the leaves above, while light sparked up from the glassy surface of the water below. The crystalline illumination dipped into hollows and crevices along his body formerly explored only by shadows--the junction of his neck and lower jaw, the shallow ridges beneath his brow, the undersides of his arms, his palms, as he ran his fingers through dampened hair, the soles of his feet, his toes gently kissing the dazzling brilliance of the lagoon.

"Come in for a swim." The voice, soft and lilting, almost mesmerizing, prompted eyes that swirled with the brilliant, blue depths of the sea to flutter open, drawn to the bubbles that had formed on the surface of the lagoon, from which those bell-like lyrics seemed to arise. A platinum brow quirked in response, and he leaned eagerly forward, toes dipping slightly into the lagoon, only to be tickled by the languid fingers of something apart from the blood-warm waters. The remaining eyebrow joined its counterpart beneath the darker roots of his hair before he flashed a quick, open grin at the pair of eyes that now peered up at him from the shadow-swathed fathoms of the lagoon. Where before his reflection had lingered and wavered gently, there now resided the visage of a girl, salmon eyes replacing the blue ones that had been their before her own, full, rosebud lips curling up in a playful smile that dimpled her porcelain cheeks, her hair framing her face in a cream-white halo as she bobbed just beneath the agitated surface of the lagoon, bubbles playing along the edges of her nostrils.

His grin only widened at the sight of the girl, and his shallow breath turned instead to an airy chuckle when she broke free of the waters, her hair clinging wetly to her face and cascading down her back in a milky sheet, her teeth bared good-naturedly behind her pink, smiling lips.

"The water's nice today," she went on to say, extending a slender hand to take hold of his. He enfolded the small, pale hand in his rough embrace, calloused fingers wrapping around hers as she pulled him closer to the edge of the grassy bank. "It's so hot outside," she remarked with a slight pout, her other hand coming to rest on his grasp. "And you haven't been here to see me in so long. I've missed you, sweet."

His grin widened at the name, but despite her tender coaxing, he would not slip into the water. Instead, he allowed his feet to dangle over the edge of the bank, in the lagoon now up to his calves, but no more.

Truth be told, he'd missed her as well. Tenna, the embodiment of the wild and careless soul of the ocean, the fairest of all the mermaids of the lagoon. He had found her months ago during his first visit to Neverland, and she had not feared him as all the others had, deemed him a Heartless monster, fled before him as he wandered, alone, into the sacredity of their lagoon. In fact, he had seen a spark of curiosity ignite in her pink eyes that day, as she lounged on the very bank upon which he now sat, the pearly scales along her elegant tail illuminated with a brilliant, opalescent glow. She'd faced him, not so much worried as she was angry, and demanded to know if he, like those before him, had come to destroy their home. No, he'd replied, he just needed somewhere to sit and think for a while. Needless to say, she had been none to pleased at his intrusion, but, ever stubborn, she did not take her leave. If anything, he swore he saw a gleam of interest in her bitter gaze when he sat down a fair distance away from her, summoning his sitar to his hands and plucking distractedly on the strings. No more than an hour later, he had left, and no words had passed between man and mermaid.

The next time he had showed up in her lagoon, she had said absolutely nothing, sparing him only fleeting glances as he waded into the shallows of the lagoon, his pants rolled up to his knees, his coat and boots discarded on the sandy banks. He spoke occasionally to her, but his comments on the weather and other such trivialities went unheeded by the maid, for she seemed much more keenly interested in the rolling waves he was sending across the water's surface with gentle flicks of his hands. On the third visit, despite the fact that the other mermaids were never to be seen by the Nobody, he assumed that she had come to accept his affection for the lagoon, so untainted by human hands, and perhaps even embraced it, given the fact that she let slip then that her name was Tenna, and she was fascinated by his affinity for her element.

Of course, the relationship all but blossomed from there on out, and Demyx had, for a time, visited her lagoon sometimes multiple times a week. She had proved to be a loyal friend, her naivety and lack of knowledge of the outside worlds leading her to be, he always thought, too trusting of one who donned a black coat, but he'd been thankful for that. She allowed him within her home, and in return he gave her his friendship. Nothing more, but nothing less. And that's how they both preferred it.

However, his visits had grown scarce as of late. Even Demyx himself did not fully understand the circumstances. He knew only that the Organization's goals were threatened with the return of the Keyblade wielder, and that their position in the world was in grave danger. Beyond that, he only followed orders. And he had been ordered to be wary of others, for none could be trusted in these direst of times--including the mermaids, for it was never clear where the loyalty of the sirens lay. But he'd been under much stress lately, and needed somewhere to escape the cruelties of everyday life. He'd neglected Tenna for long enough. And so, he returned to her. And of course, she'd welcomed him.

This was his first visit in almost three weeks, and the maid couldn't help but feel that they were drifting. She had also recently began to wonder if there was, perhaps, another person in the man's life, someone who meant more to him than she knew she ever could. But she dutifully kept her thoughts in her head where they belonged, knowing that if it were her fate to find out, the man himself would tell her without intrusive prodding.

"I already got in," Demyx said after some time, releasing his hold on the mermaid's tiny hand. It was true; he'd been swimming before her arrival, hence the reason why his hair was still damp and his shirt removed. True, but not the truth. Often he came her just to swim with the girl, but not today. Today he wished to speak with her, as he felt that she was the only one he could really talk to anymore, with times as troubled as they were.

"How've you been?" she asked with a sweet smile, deciding at last that his resolve would not waver, and if he would not join her, she would join him. With a kick of her pearl-scaled tail, he thrust herself from the water and up on the bank beside him. Even after so long, he felt heat wash across his cheeks at the sight of her bare chest, her strawberry breasts, so pert and soft, shamelessly exposed. Neverland's mermaids, he'd quickly realized, were not at all like the Atlantians. They were a much more primitive race, lacking in organized civilization and political affairs. But perhaps their carefree lifestyle was what drew Demyx to them in the first place. They were so unlike humans, and yet still so similar. They were what he longed to be.

"Más o menos," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and the mermaid giggled, never quite growing accustomed to the sound of his native tongue, just as he could not get used to hers.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, things at home aren't exactly peachy right now, but, ah . . ." He trailed off, his face flushing deeper, a bashful grin spreading across his lips. The mermaid perked up instantly, drawing closer to him with curiosity ablaze in her pink eyes.

"Yes?"

"I'm, uh . . . Well, there's, ah, this . . . guy . . ."

She squealed at the news, clasping her hands between her breasts. The smile that took her face was so genuinely happy that Demyx couldn't help but laugh with her, only half out of embarrassment.

"Oh, Demmi! I knew it!" she squeaked, latching onto his shoulder, her webbed fingers clammy against his skin. "Oh, I _knew _that was the reason you weren't coming to see me! Viradee said--do you know what she said? She said you'd forgotten about me! Can you believe it? But I told her you were prob'ly just busy, and I was right! So who is it? Is it ol' Xigbar, huh? You two are real close, I've noticed. Why, one times I coulda _swore _I saw him--"

"Jeez, slow down, Ten." He cut her off with a chuckle, raking his fingers through his hair, a nervous gesture. Her bubbly chatter died down as she waited eagerly for him to continue, worrying at her lower lip, hardly restraining the flow of words that was buzzing in her head, begging to be set free. He sighed before he went on. "It's not, uh . . . _Wow_, it's _definitely _not Xig." He laughed at that, shaking his head almost disbelievingly.

"Then who is it?" she demanded in a stretch of silence that was too long for her liking.

"You swear not to tell anyone?"

"I swear. I mean, who would I tell anyone?"

"Cross your heart?"

"Of course!"

"Hope to die?"

"Demmi, I said I--"

"Just making sure." She forced a pout onto her face and shoved him playfully.

"So . . .?"

"So what?"

"Demyx!"

"Alright, alright." He grinned, his blush rivaling the tint of her eyes. "But you have to guess."

"Oooh, Zexion!" she said right away, and Demyx pulled a face immediately, shook his head vigorously. "Luxord?" Again, he shook his head, and she pulled at her lower lip in thought. She was hesitant as she went on. "It's not . . . _Marluxia _. . . is it?"

"Eww, no!" he shot back. "You think I'd be caught dead with that chump? Talk about square with a capital S-Q-U-A-R-E. I mean, the guy has pink hair, for Kingdom Heart's sake . . . 'Sides, he's not exactly what I'd jump to lump under the category of _guy _in the first place."

"Oh, that's a relief," she sighed with a small laugh. "Gimme a hint."

"Well, he wears a black coat . . ."

"Demyx!"

"Jeez, you're not picky, are you? Want me to tell you his blood type while I'm at it?"

"You're the one who wanted me to guess. Roxas?"

"I never did go for the whole Lolita gig . . ."

"Axel?"

Silence. And then a timid smile.

"Oh my _God_, Demyx! Not Axel! Tell me it's not Axel!"

"Okay, then I won't."

"Oh, why Axel?" she pleaded, cupping his face in her hands. "He's such a . . . such a jerk, Demmi! You deserve better than that, you know you do! He's . . . he's rude, and conceited, and stuck-up, and--"

"Completely gorgeous?"

"Well, yes, but--_no_! No, Demyx! You can't love someone just because he's nice to look at! I mean, the fact that he looks good doesn't override the fact that he's all those other things!" She let go of his face, pink eyes fixed on her thin, white fins in the water. "I always hoped you'd find someone someday, Dem, but Axel wasn't exactly who I had in mind. I mean, he may be a little rough around the edges, and with more prickles than a puffer fish, but I think Xigbar would--"

"Stop. Just stop right there." She looked alarmed, but all concern washed from her delicate features when she caught sight of the teasing spark that shone in the oceanic depths of his gaze. "Xigbar's just a friend. That's all he'll ever be. I mean, could you imagine wakin' up next to that guy?" He shuddered, and she lapsed into a fit of quiet giggles, hiding her laughter behind webbed fingers. "Besides, you don't know Axel like I do."

"I don't want to know him like you do!"

"You wouldn't be sayin' that if you knew him like I do." With a glare, she ignored his immovable stubbornness, folded her arms across her chest, and waited for him to go on.

"I mean, when you don't know him, he's all those things, but after a while, he . . . After you pull out all the prickles, he's more'n just some ugly ol' puffer fish. A real diamond in the rough, y'know? He tries so hard to be all those things, maybe so people are scared'a him or somethin', but that's not really who he is. He's actually real nice. He makes me laugh, Ten. He's funny, he's got a great personality, he stands up for what he believes in. He wouldn't ever do anything to hurt someone he loves. He even likes reggae, for God's sake. Took me forever to get _that _one outta him, though." He chuckled at the recollection, but Tenna's resolve did not waver. "And besides, even if you think he's a jerk and all that, you can't deny that he has a _really _nice ass."


End file.
